


Threshold

by ARandomFactoid



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, POV Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARandomFactoid/pseuds/ARandomFactoid
Summary: It’s an unusual day, in that Nicolo is on his own and without obligation, but the expected itch of discomfort doesn’t come.  He might just be tired, or complacent, or he suspects, as he braces to stretch in the doorway of the little house he and Yusuf have called home these last five springs, that he is content.orWhat if Joe and Nicky get a few years respite from war and death early on in their relationship?
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 11
Kudos: 140





	Threshold

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I wrote thing, it started with gift-giving and grew from there. It breaks some of my personal writing rules but I'm happy with it.
> 
> There's no death, quick talk of injury & illness but everyone gets better (and no blood/gore). There's a bit of biblical poetry talk near the end, but it's Song of Songs and bent more towards poetry than religion. Notes about characters and setting at the end.

**1105**

It’s an unusual day, in that Nicolo is on his own and without obligation, but the expected itch of discomfort doesn’t come. He might just be tired, or complacent, or he suspects, as he braces to stretch in the doorway of the little house he and Yusuf have called home these last five springs, that he is content.

-

_They had been wandering almost a year when they happened upon the abandoned dwelling. Tired, slightly lost in the large expanses between the major capitols either of them knew,and darkness falling fast, they chanced the stairs at the back of the home and set camp on the flat roof, hoping the height would be of use for navigation come morning. They woke to another blistering summer day and a small group approaching from the west, close enough to wave their arms in greeting. There was enough time to break camp and leave before they had company, but after a quick conference in their increasingly fluid, if idiosyncratic, shared tongue decided it would be too suspicious if they fled from a friendly wave. So they returned the greeting, and waited in the shade of the dusty empty room below where they split the last of the dried fruit from their packs for breakfast._

_The figures revealed themselves to be a woman flanked by two older children. The woman, Shadhi, had given them one good look over and with a laugh asked “Lost?”_

_Yusuf started to answer, but stopped when he saw Nicolo nodding. He slumped and also admitted “A little lost.” Yusuf shot him a raised brow, a challenge, before adding “Much less lost than if we had an intended destination.”_

_Shadhi fixed them with a narrow-eyed stare, then introduced herself and her children, a son and daughter, Adon and Cyra, and instructed them all to return to her home on the other end of what turned out to be her farmland. Nicolo’s instinct was to balk, to thank her but demur. It had, however, been a long year; these were not their lands and neither knew the customs. If this woman was extending even the barest of kindnesses as a pretense, well._

-

Yusuf nudged him awake at first light this morning, taking his leave for town and warning him to come down from the roof before the sun was high enough in the sky to burn. Nicolo followed him back inside the house, falling alongside Yusuf in preparing breakfast, setting aside enough to pack for Yusuf’s mid-day meal. When he’s caught, Yusuf favors him with a smile and a clasp on Nicolo’s arm, letting his hand slide down slowly as shakes his head. “You do not rest Nico, almost like a true farmer.” He teases as he carries their bowls to the small table in the corner.

-

_Back at her home, that first day of their meeting, Shadhi had called them guests, fed them, then offered to let the little house to them, on easy enough terms if they were willing to re-dig the house’s well and assist with the upcoming harvest and lambing season. She had other hired hands, so she would not need them every day, and there was plenty of opportunity for work to be had in the city just over the hills to the east._

_While Nicolo considered Yusuf asked her “Why? Why offer us this?” Shadhi had shrugged - the house was hers to let and the arrival of two strong pairs of hands with well-maintained weapons at the ready who were only a ‘little lost’ because they had no destination could be seen as a lucky meeting for both sides._

-

They share a companionable meal, when Yusuf asks him if he has plans for his day of rest Nicolo shrugs and offers his company for the walk to city gates - he could always see if there was any work awaiting him in the market’s letter writers stalls. The need for Nicolo’s skill with Latin languages is infrequent this far from the main trade centers, but Guilio is always happy for the help in translating from Arabic to Greek and is more than fair in the share of fees.

Yusuf laughs, reaching across the table to shake him by the arm. “You just spent these last days planting crops, and tomorrow we travel. Adon told me yesterday you have done most of the plowing for him since his arm was sore. You must _rest_ Nico, you make me tired by looking at you.” Yusuf takes their bowls, squeezing his shoulder as makes to rinse and put them away. “I only have a quick errand, a commission. I’ll be back this afternoon.” He holds up the packet of food Nicolo had sent aside “Even sooner now that I won’t need stop at the market stalls - unless there’s is anything you’d like?”

Nicolo waves him off, they are are already prepared to travel in the morning, and besides they buy most of their staples from Cyra as she passes by on her way to sell the farms’ goods in the market. When he says as much Yusuf rolls his eyes in answer - so Nicolo knows he has delayed Yusuf’s return because now the man will have to spite him with small indulgences.

-

_They dug wells, fixed fences, learned to help with the harvest. They collect a bit of furniture, a new set of clothes, a carefully curated set of half truths and lies of omission to account for themselves and how they came to be in this place, together. Yusuf takes a fall from the roof of stables; Nicolo scrambles to get to him before anyone else can see how the broken arm heals itself. Nicolo pretends it was only a dislocated shoulder, then marches himself to the city to find a physician to teach him what he pretended to know to ‘fix’ Yusuf. Lambing season delights Yusuf and makes Nicolo want to weep from exhaustion. He actually does one morning when he finds Adon and Cyra wading among the lambs in the little barn. Yusuf goes into business with Shadhi’s younger brother, growing their savings - they decide to stay another year._

-

The little garden doesn’t need another weeding, but Nicolo clears the few he finds once Yusuf is out of sight down the path to the markets - less work for Adon to tend while they are away; part of a wedding party traveling farther east past their little city than they’ve yet traveled. They aren’t strictly needed, the roads are relatively safe in this place at this time, but their attendance is a privilege of of their friendship with the groom’s family. Nicolo is looking forward to it; he’d met Nasir while apprenticing the healing arts, another student who insisted on inviting Nicolo and Yusuf to dinner with his family. He goes over the mental checklist of all that needs to be done before they embark in the morning, and makes a bet with himself which of Nasir’s sisters will deposit a baby into his lap when the when the women start to dance.

He and Yusuf will travel with their swords, a rare thing these days, and help keep their friends safe in the unlikely event they are waylaid on the road, see their friend wed, then celebrate. Before Nicolo can get too caught up in the wonder that this is the kind of life he, they, get to lead, after everything, he decides to see to the swords.

-

_Time passes. They host an Eid al-Fitr celebration, crowding their little house with a handful of friends from the surrounding farms. Shadhi falls gravely ill, Cyra and Adon appearing at their door in the middle of the night to bring Nicolo - she recovers, with time. Yusuf starts making things (again, Nicolo learns). They continue to speak to one another in a mish-mash of languages only they understand - they learn new ones. They build a better table, irritating each other until they both shout ‘it’s fine’ in different tongues at the same time, petty glares giving way to laughter. Nicolo hears of a bounty offered back west, they leave for a week and earn it. Yusuf takes a dagger to the knee - the knee - in the skirmish, and Nicolo spends more than is prudent on paper for Yusuf to use while he ‘recovers’. That Christmas, Yusuf gifts some of the paper back, a sketch of their house under the stars._

-

Nicolo takes his and Yusuf’s swords back to the roof - the light is better than inside with the sun this high. And, despite Yusuf’s warning earlier, Nicolo removes his tunic to allow his skin to burn in the sun. The effect doesn’t last more than a few days, but a burn and healing today will make a too-quickly healed burn less likely when they’re traveling with others. Yusuf hates when he does it on purpose, but given the lack of reliable alternatives, what Yusuf doesn’t know he can’t chide over.

He starts with Yusuf’s blade, squinting at the single reflected beam of light shining back at him. It hasn’t been used with intent in over a year, still Nicolo is thorough with the inspection and cleaning - as sharp as ever. He indulges the feel of it in his hands with a few swings, familiar yet different from his own blade. He recites the words for all its parts in Arabic Yusuf had taught him one of the times they had swapped blades for a sparring session. He thinks of how this sword killed him - the first and several subsequent times - he sets it down knowing it is well cared for.

-

_Nicolo di Genova and Yusuf al Kaysani have known each other five years - there is now reason to think they will know each other for many, many more. They are not aging, not changing as the world around them turns with the seasons. Shadhi has starting graying, she wears it well. Adon and Cyra are nearly grown. Shadhi’s brother asks Yusuf if he intends to marry and settle; Yusuf stutters and gives no answer, which is a kind of answer. They are, to everyone, Yusuf and Nicolo, or more usually Yusuf/Nico. They still plant, harvest, make, and help when they can. As always, they talk - of places they have been, places they have read of, places they could go. They sleep under the stars in the heat and teach each other the names of the shapes they make - most of them are not completely made up on the spot. They huddle together in the damp of the rainy season, sharing stories and slowly, without meaning to, making plans._

-

Nicolo’s sword, he thinks again with idle amusement, is one of the vanishingly few things he still carries with him from the docks in Genoa. He cleans the blade as he inventories - the armor was sold for disguise and coin, the clothing abandoned or burned, even the better number of his original teeth were left behind on the battlefield. He smiles at himself when he counts his sense of assurance of his unquestionable place and purpose in the world as another thing left behind as he moves on to sharpening. He remembers the silver crucifix traded for passage on a ship that wrecked and led them here and the… feeling is so bright and visceral he has to stand and pace - reaching one roof ledge and then turning and striding to the other side. He returns to the center and assumes a combat stance, starting the drills he’d learned as a boy, then those he learned when he took up the sword again.

His arms grow sore, and the heat along his shoulders rises to the point he knows the sun has done its work on him. He gives in and allows himself to be glad he traded away those things. He sets down the sword and lays flat to catch his breath, searching for a prayer to give thanks and center himself. Snatches of the old Latin prayers he once recited flit through his mind and give way and overlap with Yusuf’s daily prayers. He suspects he may be giddy, or slightly heat-struck when his mind wanders to an anatomy text he had memorized during his studies. He takes a deep breath, it might be time to come down from the roof and actually rest.

-

_Not yet a week ago, they returned home late, the full moon lighting their path. They had visited a scholarly minded silversmith, calls themselves Peli, that Yusuf befriended - a visit Peli had insisted upon when they heard Nicolo lived with Yusuf and had studied medicine. Peli was a gracious host, willing to entertain and to be entertained - holding a lively discussion about many things until the topic came around to poetry that continued until it closed out the night. During their walk Yusuf had continued a debate with Nicolo he had not been able to win with Peli, content with Nicolo’s agreeable affirmations of Yusuf’s argument as they bumped shoulders in the moonlight. He continued on up the stairs to the roof without pause, leaving Nicolo to huff and collect the cushions, not pausing his lecture until Nicolo dropped a sleeping mat onto his head. In retribution he pulled Nicolo down into a tumble that left them staring at the stars, shoulders almost touching as they caught their breath._

_“And what do you think, Nico?” Yusuf asked._

_“That you and Peli like to disagree more than you actually disagree.”_

_Yusuf nudged him with a shoulder. “That is unquestionably true. I was referring to the Canticum Canoitcorum - it is one of your Christian holy books? Yet you do not come to my defense? Or Peli’s?”_

_“The Song of Songs is an allegory, Yusuf. If the meaning was plain it would not be an allegory.” Nicolo nudged back._

_“And what,” Yusuf groaned as he rose onto an elbow to face Nicolo “do you think?”_

_Nicolo turned his head to face Yusuf and switching to Hebrew learned after a Passover with Shadhi, quoted:_

_“Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you - if you find by beloved, what will you tell him? Tell him I am faint with love._

_How is your beloved better than others, most beautiful of women? How is your beloved better than others, that you so charge us?”_

_Yusuf watched Nico for a long moment, then hummed and leaned back when Nicolo did not continue, bringing them back into contact, this time shoulder to elbow. “That it not an opinion, Nico.”_

_“It is what I am thinking.” Nicolo replied. “Perhaps next time you and Peli argue I will have an opinion.”_

-

Yusuf returns early, well before noon, Nicolo is still wiping away the remains of the sun’s damage from this shoulders when he hears the signal call from the path. Nicolo has just enough time to finish clearing the last of the damage and bring the bucket of water he was using to the barrel just outside of the door, where he meets Yusuf.

“You’re early.” Nicolo greets, dumping the water into barrel with a nonchalant tip of his head to Yusuf.

“You’re… did you burn again, Nico?” Yusuf answered reaching forward with narrowed eyes and an annoyed scowl when his fingers skimmed the pink skin atop Nicolo’s shoulder and down his arm, still warm from the healed burn and friction from the cleaning. His hand turns to grip Nicolo’s elbow to turn him back inside, which turns into a token struggle as Nicolo huffs and Yusuf laughs until Nicolo takes him unawares by pressing him bodily against the door frame to impede their motion.

Pressed together and faces inches apart, Nicolo raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Yusuf juts his chin in answer, taking a hold of Nicolo by both arms but not pushing back.

Nicolo moves closer. “I have been thinking.” He says, his voice low quiet, the play fight bled out with a shaky breath.

“And your opinion?” Yusuf answer, just as quiet but his grip tightens.

Nicolo shakes his head, brushing their noses together. “A request. Yusuf, can I-”

“Yes.” Yusuf answers, lifting his head to meet Nicolo’s kiss with his own, and immediately allows himself be pushed back into the wood of the door frame. As one kiss turns into another, and another, Yusuf releases one of Nicolo’s arms to fumble with his satchel, and Nicolo feels something firm and smooth slide over his bicep - cool metal against his warm and warming skin. Nicolo breaks the kiss to look down, and Yusuf kisses his forehead as Nicolo examines the silver armband, its hammered pattern wrapping snugly where Yusuf has so often touches to show his regard.

“Today.” Yusuf laughs. “Today I was going to ask.” Nicolo allows himself to be pulled in, burying his face in Yusuf’s neck. “And here I found you here on the-” he cuts himself off with a laugh and kisses Nicolo once again.

**2025**

They are summering in the Alps, sharing a large modern house that Nile found online and Andy approved after it was apparent that the doctor telling her she’d need to wear that sling for six weeks really had meant six weeks, then relented for a full summer vacation. Far from the usual tourist spots, the locals don’t quite know what to make of them when they appear in town for a supply run, spreading out in various configurations only to regroup and disappear back up the road, but everyone is friendly enough.

It’s the height of summer, warm and sunny enough for Nicky to submit to wearing Joe’s American baseball cap, the right way around, while they did their shopping. He returns it during the car ride back, Joe turning it backwards with a grin, leaning against him in the backseat as he heckles Andy and Nile’s Italian verb conjugation practice up in the front. Nicky unlocks his phone, taking a moment to admire the lockscreen, a recent sketch of a small square home surrounded by fields of grain, with two figures sitting on the flat roof looking up at the stars. The original is back in the house, and on that version Nicky can make out their very own constellations from so long ago. He already knows where it will go up on a wall, in another house, far away, where a certain silver band of unprovable provenance rests in the strongest fire-proof safe twenty-first century money can buy. Then he opens an app and turns the air conditioning on in their temporary home, a technology that even Nile still wonders at when she asks him, in passable modern standard Italian, what he’s ‘getting up to’.

Nicky dawdles for a moment in the car, giving Joe one last squeeze before letting him go and exiting the vehicle. They follow the ladies up the gravel path, Joe catching his free hand, swinging their arms as they stroll. They take their time, when they reach the threshold they can hear Andy and Nile laughing in kitchen in the back of the house. So, Nicky pauses, and pulls Joe in, removing his hat to press him gently against the door jamb. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Joe nods and kisses him first.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> I tagged this as "historical inaccuracy" because I did not set this in a particular real place that definitely existed in 1105. I imaged a small and growing city far enough away from where they started that their immediate past wasn't looming, with varied communities that they could join and belong to, for a little while at least.


End file.
